


Cleansed by Fire

by Anonymous



Category: Hereditary (2018)
Genre: Cults, Demon/Human Relationships, Demonic Possession, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sequel toNighttime Visitors.Paimon gets to know his new host on an intimate level.
Relationships: King Paimon/Peter Graham
Kudos: 66
Collections: Anonymous





	Cleansed by Fire

They groveled like ants before a queen, praising him while he stood there with wide eyes and an open mouth. He should’ve died after jumping through the window. Wished he had. Charlie, Dad, Mom... all of them were dead, leaving him with these chanting freaks. The stupid crown was the icing on the cake. 

He tried to lift his hand and rip the crown off, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. The only thing he could do was gaze upon his naked subjects, a slow smile spreading on his face. 

_“I have been waiting so long for this moment, Peter. I come to you not in dreams, but in your world. My world.”_

His hand rose by itself, palm facing outward, and immediately the chanting stopped. Apparently these people wanted knowledge of all secret things, honor, wealth, good familiars, and all men bound to their will, but Paimon had other plans. 

"Let's give our king time to adjust," Joan said, her name popping into Peter's mind. She was the same woman who'd shouted to him from across the street when he'd been eating lunch. "It has been an eventful night."

The cultists arranged themselves on either side of the treehouse, creating a path to the ladder. He descended it, still smiling, still confused by the thoughts that weren’t his own. Disgusting thoughts of the things that could be done to his body. They made him tremble with both fear and anticipation. 

_“Yes, you remember that night when I came to you. My obedient little whore. Will you allow me the same indulgence?”_

He wouldn’t allow anything. It would simply happen like last time. 

_“You wound me. I would never make you do anything against your will.”_

A chuckle echoed through his mind as he reached the bottom of the ladder. Unlike a few minutes ago, all of the house lights were on, a mockery of a welcoming home. He never wanted to enter that place again, but unfortunately it was the destination. At least there weren't any cultists encountered—not until he arrived in the upstairs bathroom, where a steamy bubble bath and a naked old lady awaited him. Her saggy tits hung to her belly button. That’s as far as his eyes got before they returned to her beaming face. 

“If you require anything else, my king, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

She clasped her hands and bowed her head slightly, then limped out of the bathroom. This house wasn’t a home anymore, not with these creeps acting like they owned the joint, and definitely not with the blood and bad memories that tainted it. 

_“We will not always be here. This dwelling doesn’t befit a king.”_

Peter just needed some fucking privacy for starters, and thankfully it was granted to him. His hand swung the door shut and locked it. 

_“Are you pleased?”_

He nodded, unsure whether the action was done by him or the demon. Was that even his reflection in the mirror? His black hair, tanned skin, and bandaged nose were recognizable, but his brown eyes looked different, shining with an intensity that reminded him of the flames that had almost consumed him. And the predatory smile definitely didn’t belong to him. 

“Who am I?” he whispered.

_“You are mine, Peter. You will always be mine, long after this mortal shell has rotted away and become dust.”_

His body turned to the tub.

_“You are also unclean. We will not waste Lucy’s efforts.”_

Paimon was an asshole, but he did seem to care about his followers. To a certain extent. The cheap-looking crown was ripped off and flung onto the counter with a disdainful huff, not befitting of a king either. Peter’s shoes, socks, hoodie, bloody t-shirt, and jeans received better treatment. The shoes were perfectly aligned on the floor, and the clothes were neatly folded in a pile. 

Only his boxers were left, white with red polka dots. They were removed and placed onto the pile. Mom had bought them for him, just like she’d done with his other clothes. Thinking of her made his stomach sick. He would never forget the sight and sounds of her head getting cut off. Paimon had to be responsible; a human couldn’t float and decapitate herself with piano wire. And what about Dad’s burnt corpse and Charlie’s accident? 

_“Their deaths were necessary. I had to weaken you sufficiently.”_

Peter’s fingertips skimmed over his bandages. Smashing his face on his desk had been the only way for him to end his seizure. Maybe Paimon was responsible for that terrifying event too. 

_"Yes, I entered your body temporarily as an experiment. You were not ready, hence the odd consequences. They did have the benefit of isolating you from your peers, however."_

Yeah, it had been really great for people to look at him like he belonged in a mental hospital. On the plus side, his nose didn't hurt anymore. 

_“A benefit of our joining.”_

Joining. The word brought back more memories of the nighttime visit, but he was distracted by the careful removal of the bandages. His nose had healed already, showing no signs of crookedness, and there was just a bit of crusty blood at his nostrils. 

_“Handsome and youthful. I couldn’t ask for a better vessel. Come, let us bathe together.”_

Taking a bath while being possessed by a demon was not on his list of things to do in life, but there was no other choice. His feet stepped into the cooling water that only had a few bubbles, and his ass parked itself at the back of the tub. 

The washing was innocent at first, with hands sliding through his hair, over his face, and then along his arms, but it didn’t take long for the perversion to start. His chest was given slow caresses that made him shiver, even though these hands were his own. He already wanted to leap out, whip that door open, and run as fast as he could. 

_“Always in denial of your true self... though I do enjoy your stubbornness. Breaking you will be all the sweeter.”_

One hand remained on his chest while the other slid into the water. Thanks to the temperature, his dick didn’t react to being cupped, but the pervert wasn’t going to give up that easily. His legs spread wide enough to hit the sides of the tub, and a finger found its way to his hole, pausing there. He tensed up, a reflex that he couldn’t have been more grateful for. It was better than welcoming Paimon with open arms. 

_“This brings back fond memories indeed. I was your first.”_

It was true. Mom had been protective when it came to relationships, always worried that he would get someone pregnant. His experience was limited to getting touched by a few girls at parties. He'd never been with a guy before that night.

_“A man, Peter. A man had you, and he will have you again before this night is over.”_

His finger pushed inside with a slight burn, and he was forced to watch it disappear. Buried knuckle-deep, it slowly massaged his sensitive spot, just until a pleasurable jolt passed through his dick. Not nearly enough to get him hard, but it left him craving more. 

_“For all your stubbornness, you cannot deny the pleasure I offer you.”_

It slid out and another was added, their combined entry even more painful. He tried to close his legs, mortified by the sight of his probing fingers. This was somehow worse than when he’d watched Paimon do it to him. But no matter how hard he fought for control, he couldn’t seize it. 

_“Your resistance grows tiresome. Do not fight unless you want to watch your entire hand disappear. That would be a grand sight, wouldn’t it?”_

A rush of water flowed into him as the fingers spread apart, and he tolerated the discomfort with the hope that it would end soon. After a long minute of stretching and teasing, they pulled out. His body heaved itself out of the tub with a dramatic sigh. 

_“I had hoped for a greater response from you, but alas, I shall blame your shortcomings on the water’s temperature.”_

A fresh towel was retrieved from the cabinet and used to dry him off, starting with his hair. The mirror reflected a look of admiration as the towel worked its way down. Extra attention was given to his dick, which continued to hang limply, and also to his ass. It was difficult to get horny when he’d spent the past hour discovering Dad’s burnt corpse, getting chased by a demon-possessed mother, listening to her head get banged on the ceiling, and watching her head get sliced off. 

_“Perhaps I can call on Lucy to lend her aid? I hear she is quite good with her hands.”_

Never in a million years. The thought was almost enough to make Peter gag.

_“I jest, of course. None of them are worthy of touching you as I have.”_

The towel was hung up, not a single drop of water remaining on him. Right on cue, there was a knock on the door and then Lucy’s muffled voice.

“My king, I have your robe and sandals.”

“Thank you, Lucy. You may leave them.”

The reply emerged from his mouth, but it didn’t truly come from him. Just more crazy shit.

“I’ve done as you asked, oh mighty Paimon. Will you be feasting with us?”

“No, I have other matters to address. Do not disturb me or there will be consequences.”

“I will relay your order.”

Lucy creaked down the hallway, and once her footsteps were out of earshot, the door was unlocked and opened. She'd left a pair of fancy gold sandals on the floor and an orange robe that hung from the knob. It looked similar to the robe that Paimon had worn in the dream. He put it on and tied the sash loosely, leaving a bit of chest exposed. 

_“A proper king should never be seen in a vulnerable state by his servants. However, I must admit that I prefer this body in a state of undress. You awaken such hunger in me."_

The robe dragged on the floor as Peter walked toward the master bedroom against his will. It was time to address those other matters, and he failed miserably at his attempts to brace his feet. He couldn’t go in there, not in the room that belonged to his dead parents. Not on the bed they’d once slept on. 

_“You can and you will.”_

His feet stepped into the bedroom. The plain pillowcases, blanket, and sheets had been replaced with red silk, which was another reminder of his dream, but maybe this wouldn’t be as bad. What could Paimon do beyond masturbating? 

“I can do many things, Peter.”

The deep voice came from directly behind him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Then came the shutting of the door. He didn’t look over his shoulder, already knowing what he would see. A demon disguised as an angel. 

Delicate hands untied the sash and opened the robe. It slid off his shoulders and fell to the floor, leaving him exposed to Paimon’s scrutiny again. More than ever, Peter wanted to run, but he knew better than to try. 

“Such a silly boy. You entered this bedroom of your own accord.”

“No, I...” He swallowed hard. “You made me do it, just like everything else.”

“Oh, Peter... your denial is a constant source of amusement.” Paimon chuckled softly into his ear, heating his skin with warm breath. “I did nothing but plant a few seeds of encouragement.”

A guy wouldn’t decide to finger himself in a bathtub after going through all of that hell. Paimon was just fucking with him as usual, trying to plant seeds of doubt instead. Nice try, but it wasn’t going to work. Peter clenched his hands into fists, having had more than enough of these tricks. 

“You’re a fucking liar.”

In a heartbeat, his hair was gripped and his head was yanked back until he was staring up at the pale blue eyes. They burned with a fire that made his breath hitch. He forced a dismissive smile onto his face, refusing to show submission.

“Do not forget who you're speaking to.”

“An asshole. A sick fuck that gets off on tormenting people.”

The words spilled out of his mouth before he had a chance to think them over. Silence followed, and his smile faded as he searched Paimon’s face. It was completely blank, the most terrifying thing of all. 

Finally the hand released its grip, allowing Peter to tilt his head forward. He stared at the floor, wishing it would swallow him up. Even the depths of hell would be better than this bedroom.

“Your filthy mouth never fails to astound me. Any other king would have struck you down.”

“Do it,” he croaked. “Strike me down, exorcise my soul, whatever.”

“I will not. We have a bond that began before you took your first breath. Why would I seek to sever something of such magnitude?”

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. It didn’t surprise him when a hard cock pressed against his lower back. He just stared and listened to more sugary words. 

“We can accomplish many feats together. You need only surrender your mind and body to me.”

Something didn’t make sense. If Paimon could manifest in this world, then why did he need a host? As soon as the question crossed Peter’s mind, an answer arrived.

“It takes a great deal of energy to form this body of flesh and blood. For replenishment, I must occupy a suitable host or return to the place from whence I came.”

“Return to hell, you mean.”

“Yes. You witnessed its glory when I came to you.”

“Oh yeah, it was awesome. My favorite part was seeing my sister’s decapitated head on my dinner plate.”

“It’s a place of constant change, altering itself to fit the eyes of the beholder. You were suffering, Peter. Consumed by self-loathing. Though I will admit to playing a role in the... foretelling of your parents’ deaths.”

Paimon released him and walked toward the side of the bed, his hips moving in a way that was more female than male. It was an obvious attempt at distraction and sadly it worked. He really was beautiful, especially with his long, silky hair, flawless skin, and angelic face, and he knew it. His lips curled into a small smile as he climbed on.

“Join me. Let your troubles melt away.”

He showcased himself in the middle, leaning up slightly on his forearms, one foot planted on the bed and the other leg straight. His cock stood tall and thick, the weight causing it to angle toward his abs. God, it was big. Peter took a step forward, then another and another until he was standing beside the bed. Pointless to keep fighting in a battle that couldn’t be won. His fate had been sealed a long time ago. He would never graduate, never find a girlfriend, never be anything but a slave to Paimon’s wants. 

“Not a slave, Peter. My vessel, yes, but also my lover.”

The lover of an evil demon from hell. That sounded amazing. With a deep breath, he pressed a knee on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t too late to run, though he doubted the usefulness of that. He probably wouldn’t make it to the door. In the dream, Paimon had proven his ability to affect behavior even while he wasn’t possessing someone. 

“You worry far too much. Come to me. Service your king.”

There was definitely power behind those words. Peter didn’t hesitate when climbing onto the bed, despite the butterflies that were wreaking havoc in his stomach. He stayed close to the edge, sitting with his legs folded under him, ready to spring up in the event of danger. How did something that big fit inside his ass? He would rather jump through another window instead of taking it again.

“So dramatic. The human body can accommodate a great many things.” Paimon reached up and slid a fingertip across Peter’s bottom lip. “Would it fit here, I wonder?”

Peter jerked his head away, heat rising to his face. It had been humiliating to lay on his back, spread like a platter, and now a blowjob? That thing would choke him to death, but Paimon wasn’t concerned at all. He arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow and looked at Peter expectantly. 

“Well? Your king is waiting to be serviced.”

“Uh... I don’t think it’ll fit in my mouth.”

“How will you know if you don’t try?”

He knew just by looking at it. The girth had to be close to the size of his wrist, and the length was longer than any cocks he’d seen during his secret porn adventures on his phone. Despite its huge size, it didn’t look out of place on Paimon’s lean body. He was still muscular and well over six feet tall, unmistakably a man when he wasn’t wearing his baggy robe and riding a camel.

“Would you prefer a woman?”

Peter’s gaze shifted to the penetrating eyes. He was unable to tell anything but the truth, though the words didn’t come easily. “Sometimes I watch guys on my... and I think about... while I...”

“Ah.” Paimon’s mouth twitched as if he was fighting off a smile. “There is no harm in enjoying the pleasures of both worlds, despite what Christians would have you believe.” He gestured to his cock. “And there is no harm in trying something new. Letting you choke to death would be counterproductive to my goals.”

There was no way out of this when faced with a prissy king who was used to getting what he wanted. Peter got on his knees and leaned forward until his mouth was inches away from the intimidating cock. Unsurprisingly, his fingers didn’t touch when he gripped the base. The simple action earned him a pleased sigh from Paimon.

“Good, Peter. You know what to do next.”

He really didn’t, but he started with a hesitant lick to the side of the head, using the very tip of his tongue. It tasted like normal skin, so he gave another lick with a bit more enthusiasm, even though this was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. His face was burning and so were the eyes that watched him intently. 

“Your flushed face looks exquisite. Touch yourself and let me see more.”

For reasons beyond his understanding, his dick was half-hard, and it only took a few pumps before it was swelling to full size. Maybe it was from the thrill of potentially being caught, or maybe a sick part of him enjoyed being of service. He was actually doing something right for once, and he didn’t want to fuck it up by disobeying.

“Excellent. You may resume.”

He continued to stroke his dick while he swirled his tongue all over the head, making it shine with wetness. At some point, he would have to try taking it into his mouth, and he stalled for as long as he could. Paimon was silent, offering no more praise or facial indications that he was enjoying this. But when his fingers crept down the blanket, inching toward Peter’s head, the action spoke for itself. The king was tired of waiting. 

Peter’s heart raced as the fingers wove into his hair, but he didn’t struggle when downward pressure was applied. His mouth opened obediently, accepting the girthy head, and Paimon responded with a sharp inhale. It slid deeper, already putting a strain on his jaw, and his eyes watered from the intense stretch. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except blink the tears away and feel his throat close up with panic. 

“Breathe through your nose. You are not dying.”

His clawing hands drifted to the blanket as he took deep breaths. The pressure had stopped, but he was kept in place by a firm grip. He wasn’t even halfway; the head was just barely touching the back of his mouth. Impossible to take the rest. He would sooner die a million deaths than have this big dick invade his throat. 

“These things take time. I don’t expect you to take the entirety on your first attempt.”

Paimon released his grip, letting Peter cough and splutter his way up. His eyes were a blurry mess, his jaw was on fire, and his chin was dripping with spit. As he leaned back to a sitting position, he quickly wiped it off, feeling disgusted with himself. He’d been bent over like a slut, choking on a demon’s dick. Meanwhile, Paimon was just lounging there with an amused smile. 

“What shall I do with you, Peter? You’re in a sorry state indeed.”

He bowed his head, staring at his persistent boner. It only confirmed how pathetic he was. “Just... just leave me alone.”

“And ruin our celebrations? Don’t be absurd.”

Paimon reached into the nightstand and pulled out a full bottle of lube. How the hell did he know that was there? Maybe one of the creepy cultists was responsible, hoping for some action with his or her beloved king. Peter swallowed, on the verge of gagging again. That would be the ultimate nightmare if he had to have sex with them. 

“You do have a few admirers, but rest assured that it won't happen.”

“Do they even know that I’m still in my body?”

“They believe your soul has vacated. I intervened in the ritual without their knowledge.” Paimon sighed as he examined the bottle. “Enough talk of such things. Shall we put this to use?”

It was an innocent-sounding question, but reality was different. There would be no leaving this room until Paimon had his fill, and he wasn’t above using violence to get what he wanted. Peter’s shoulders sagged with defeat as he nodded his acceptance. 

“Good. Face the end of the bed and kneel before your king.”

Peter crawled there, aware of the hungry gaze that followed him. He sat on his heels with his legs close together, trying to hide everything he could. Behind him, the mattress creaked and the bottle popped open. At least this wouldn’t be as painful as last time. Paimon had to be given credit for using actual lube instead of relying on blood. 

“Don’t get the wrong impression. I wouldn’t want you soiling my robe by bleeding from your rear orifice.”

Peter snickered, some of the tension leaving him. “My _rear orifice_? You mean my ass.”

“Yes, Peter. Your ass. You humans come up with such vulgar terms.”

“I guess you don’t like dick and cock either?”

“On the contrary, I like them very much.” Paimon wrapped a slick hand around Peter’s dick, using the lightest of pressure, almost able to cover it completely. “You’re quite endowed for a human, though I prefer another part of you.”

Paimon moved closer, pressing himself against Peter’s ass, thighs spread on either side of him. His cock had already been lubed up and was raring to go, making the butterflies return to Peter’s stomach. 

“Uh... what if someone walks in?”

“They are making preparations elsewhere, so you need not worry.” Paimon lowered his voice to a spine-chilling whisper. “I think I will have you on your hands and knees tonight. The view will be wonderful.”

A palm touched Peter’s back, asking him to bend over, and his face turned into a tomato as he complied. 

“You are simply adorable. I cannot wait to tarnish you.”

Peter winced from the sudden pressure at his hole. It wasn’t caused by a finger—too big and hot for that. Despite his tension, the lube and Paimon’s strength allowed him to slide right in with an audible pop. Peter slumped forward, tears springing to his eyes as he muffled his whimpers against the silk. The sounds did nothing to stop Paimon’s continued entry. A demon was still a demon, even if it looked like an angel.

“Ah, Peter... you’re gripping me so well. Taking me so perfectly.”

Fingers dug into his hips, pulling him back and speeding up the smooth slide of Paimon’s cock. It was buried in no time at all, turning Peter into a shaky, panting heap. Pain tore through his ass and stomach, which had a bulge like before. He squirmed a bit, trying to relieve some of the cramping, but not even an inch was able to slip out. His attempt only succeeded in making Paimon groan with pleasure.

“You were made for me.”

Peter had to disagree. His ass felt like it would split apart from the thickness, and he was pretty sure that cocks weren’t meant to go this deep. He pressed a hand along his stomach, feeling the bulge, something he hadn’t been able to do because of the chains. 

“Yes, the depth is astounding. It’s a marvel to watch you accept me.”

He lowered his hand and closed his eyes, almost ready to pass out. It had been bad enough to see the bulge, but it was even worse to feel it. Paimon tormented him with a slow withdrawal, emphasizing the length that never seemed to end. There was another pop as the head tugged at his hole, finally breaking free and leaving him with the welcome feeling of emptiness. But it didn’t last long. The entry was just as slow, gradually filling him until his hole was wrapped around the base again. 

It was repeated over and over, his stretched ass taking the head and then the rest with zero resistance. Through it all, his dick stayed hard, twitching from the deliberate attempts to nail his sweet spot. He focused on breathing, not wanting to give Paimon the luxury of hearing any other sounds. Not wanting to let him know how good this was starting to feel. Eventually the only things Peter could focus on were the slick heat and incredible fullness offered by the demon’s cock, and that sickened him more than anything he’d witnessed tonight. 

“If I were human, would you think different of me?”

After the next withdrawal, Paimon went still, waiting for the answer. He already knew it, just like he knew everything else, but he wanted to hear the admission. Peter wiped his eyes before replying.

“If you weren’t an evil bastard that fucked up my life, then yeah, I’d like you a bit more.”

“You are attracted to me, but you don't agree with the things I have done. That is fair. Now tell me, would you like me to continue, or shall I spend myself on your body?”

“Is fucking yourself an option?”

Paimon chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor in the sound. “Why would I do that when you’re right here, baring yourself to me?”

Peter’s retort was cut off by a groan as he was roughly filled again, balls deep. He reached for his dripping dick, but was stopped by a hand around his wrist. It was pinned behind him and so was the other, forcing him to rely on the shallow thrusts that started. They kept him warm and full, rapidly dragging his hole back and forth along the base. He squeezed around it for more friction and spread his legs wider for that extra bit of depth, desperate to come. 

“Yes, my little whore... you love when I’m inside you...”

The smacks overpowered his ragged panting as Paimon used him like a toy, only interested in one thing. His thick cock swelled, providing an even greater stretch, but this wasn’t enough. The angle was wrong, purposely avoiding the spot that caused those pleasurable jolts. Peter squirmed and struggled to free his hands in vain. 

“After you take my seed, I will consider granting your release. Be good until then.”

Peter stopped struggling, though it was more from shame than the order itself. He really was a whore, lying there with his face down and his ass up, loving the feeling of Paimon’s big dick sliding inside him. When it began to pulse, sending deep spurts of cum into him, he loved that too. There were no flames to consume him, no scent of sizzling flesh, just heat and wetness and pressure against the place where he needed it the most. 

“Good boy, Peter... very good. Take it all.”

He barely heard Paimon’s soft groans, too lost in the bliss that accompanied each violent twitch. Maybe it was just his imagination, but his stomach felt like it was also getting filled up. It did look slightly bigger, and not only because of the bulge from the buried cock. He maintained his grip around the base, keeping the entire length snugly fitted and making sure that nothing spilled out. Paimon rewarded him by releasing his wrists after the final spurt entered his ass. 

Peter’s hand shook as he reached for his dick again, but something else prevented him from doing it. An arm around his chest, pulling him back until he was kneeling upright against Paimon. The new position caused a trickle of cum to escape his stuffed ass, and he shuddered as Paimon closed the gap by nudging his hips forward. 

“You were good for me, thus deserving of another reward aside from my seed.” Paimon gripped Peter’s dick with his free hand, making him shudder again. “Penetrate yourself and I will lend my aid.”

As if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, there it was, an order to fuck himself on Paimon’s cock. Peter shook his head in defiance, despite knowing where this would lead. He was achingly hard and needed to come no matter what.

“Well then, I suppose it is time to take my leave. This was enjoyable while it lasted.”

Paimon’s arm began to shimmer. Soon his spirit would be back inside his host, pulling the strings like a puppet master, denying any sort of pleasure as punishment for disobeying him. 

“Wait! I... I’ll do it.”

The arm returned to its usual appearance. Although Peter couldn’t see the smile behind him, he knew it was there. 

“Proceed when you are ready.”

It took him several seconds to muster enough courage to tilt his hips forward slightly. The movement created a filthy sound from the cum and lube inside his ass, but he tried to ignore it, focusing on the pleasure of his hole sliding along Paimon's cock. An inch emerged and then Peter pushed back to the base, gasping at the fullness, legs trembling with the effort to keep himself there. Paimon gave him a light squeeze in return.

“That’s it, Peter. Keep going.”

He did it again with more speed, causing a squirt of cum to leave his ass. Another squeeze followed, and another, rewarding him each time he took Paimon's cock to the hilt. It was obvious manipulation, but he didn't care, establishing a steady pace once he found the perfect angle. A pool of white grew beneath him, cum continuing to squirt out with every roll of his hips. He couldn't stop, not when it felt this good. 

"Greedy boy..." 

The squeezes became strokes, getting faster and harder until he finally shot his load all over Paimon’s hand. Sweat and tears trickled down his face as he slumped back, shuddering against the demon, unable to suppress his breathless groans. 

“Squeezing me so tightly,” Paimon growled into his ear, hips flush against his ass. “I could almost fill you again.”

Peter closed his eyes, letting the last few drops get milked out. His hole continued to tighten, as if trying to pull more cum out of the still-hard cock. If he had to endure another round of fucking, it might be the death of him. His organs had probably been rearranged.

“I think that’s enough for one lifeti—”

His eyes flew open as the faint smell of smoke entered the bedroom. He jerked his head to look at Paimon, who was totally unconcerned. In fact, he was smiling. Before Peter could ask about it, Paimon disappeared in a flash of blue light. A heavy weight settled into him, preventing him from moving a single muscle. The demonic presence had returned, and once again, Peter was forced to be the watcher. 

His body slid off the bed, strode into the empty hallway, and then into the bathroom. A washcloth, water, and soap were used to clean his lower half, which was dripping with evidence of sex. It had actually happened.

 _“Yes, it truly did happen, and there is much to look forward to.”_

It took several cycles of rinsing and cleaning before Paimon was satisfied with the condition of Peter’s dick, ass, and legs. The washcloth was tossed into the sink, the hideous crown and fancy sandals were put on, and the robe was retrieved from the bedroom floor so it could be worn as well. By now, the smell of smoke had gotten more noticeable, but there weren’t any flames upstairs. 

_“They know better than to put this body in harm’s way. It’s stronger now, but not impervious.”_

It was definitely stronger. He’d just taken a huge dick, but his hole had shrunk from a cave to its normal size, and his legs didn’t feel like jelly anymore as he descended the stairs. No flames down here either, so the smell had to be coming from outside. What the hell were those crazy cultists doing? 

_“You will find out soon enough.”_

The back door opened, revealing a massive bonfire that reached toward the black sky. It illuminated dozens of naked men and women, sitting in a circle with unlit torches lying on the grass between them. Some were fat, others were skinny, and most of them were old. But not all. Gabe was there, one of the guys from school. The same guy who’d been kneeling in the treehouse. Peter used to smoke a bowl with him during breaks. 

_“Their reach extends far. I feel no love for them, nor any sense of duty. These ants are merely pawns, despite their belief that I am the one who is bound.”_

Upon noticing Peter’s presence in the doorway, the cultists abandoned their feast of ale and unidentifiable meat. They turned in unison and knelt with their heads bowed. 

“Hail Paimon! Hail Paimon! Hail Paimon! Hail!” 

Like the dream, this was something from an acid trip. Creepy but also comical. If Peter were capable of snickering, he would’ve been doing exactly that. Instead he was forced to keep a straight face. 

“Great Paimon, tell us how we can serve you!” Joan shouted from the front middle of the circle. 

Peter's arms rose dramatically. “Cleanse this place. Burn it to the ground. Leave no evidence that we were here.” 

All at once, the cultists grabbed the torches and stood up. After everyone’s torches were lit, they assembled in a line, starting with Joan. She led the procession to the treehouse, where each of them were given the opportunity to light their target of choice. Some chose the ladder, while others picked the trees that supported the structure. 

_“Annie Graham was a poor, lost mother and wife who suffered a great deal of stress in her life. Most recently, the death of her own mother, Ellen, and her daughter Charlie. One night, she snapped, unable to find any light amidst the darkness.”_

With reverent smiles and raised torches, the cultists watched the treehouse turn into a blazing inferno. It looked like something from hell, no longer the place that Charlie and Mom had used as a safe haven. 

_“Charlie was never Charlie. She was I, Paimon, occupying a grossly unsuitable vessel from the moment she was born. Did you not think her behavior was odd for a little girl? Imagine the confusion, the dissonance, of being thrust into a body that wasn’t meant to hold you.”_

There were plenty of weird little girls out there. It didn’t mean that all of them were possessed by demons. It didn’t mean that Charlie—who Peter had loved more than anyone—had actually been Paimon the whole time. This was more bullshit from an evil bastard that wanted to break him down to nothing. 

_“Peter Graham is no more. He was cleansed by fire.”_

Paimon stepped forward, permitting his followers to enter the house that had once been his lover’s home. As flames erupted behind him, he smiled into the starless night, surrounded by billows of smoke. Eventually, this body would grow old and weak, but that time was not now. There was a new dwelling to locate, mischief to cause, servants to manipulate, and a greedy boy to satisfy. Such fun to be had, here in this earthly realm. 

His heart would always remain in Hell, of course. When the time came to return there, Peter would accompany him. Heaven didn’t befit his feisty soul. He had a remarkable imagination that was currently devising all manner of ways in which to kill the “evil bastard.” 

Love wasn’t a feeling that Paimon understood well, as was the case with most of his kind. In spite of his heart being elsewhere, he did feel an odd spark of something that extended beyond mere lust. Fondness, perhaps. Most humans would have been crushed under the weight of recent events, but not Peter. 

Yes, fondness was a fitting word. And perhaps, with time, love.


End file.
